


new to the scene, love?

by CabinFeverHaver



Category: Monster Lover - Fandom, Original Work (monster fucker)
Genre: 1979, Dating, F/F, Glasgow, Monster Girl, Scotland, Shapeshifting, newly turned vampire, vampire, vampire girlfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-13 00:09:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20573210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabinFeverHaver/pseuds/CabinFeverHaver
Summary: In which a hook-up becomes so much more, your new girlfriend acts a bit strange, and your friend, Marie, wants to run some tests to get to the bottom of strange wildlife killings in the local park.or:I really just wanted to write a vampire fic set in my favorite city. luv you Glasgow!! 🏴🏴 [scottish flag]





	1. bar crawl

**Author's Note:**

> So I really wanted to make this fic as realistic as possible according to the era i set it in (1979 to be exact) so some clothing description will occur. You attend the University of Glasgow, in this story so feel free to look up the campus bc it’s really quite beautiful!! Hope you enjoy!

1979\. It all seemed so surreal to you. A job at the bookstore on Otago street, weekends off, classes at uni starting out well. And here you are, the loud thrum of reverberating guitar blaring inside the (maybe a wee bit) seedy pub your dearest friend from secondary school, Marie, had dragged you to. But really you couldn’t complain. A pint in hand and a comfortable seat in one of the only lesbian pubs in the area was a blessing sent from the lumberjack look alike lesbians who owned the place. Being new in the area, you’ve happened to grow quite close to the middle aged couple. They welcomed you for meals when you first moved into the student letting just down the way, and even tried to set you up on a few dates in your short time in the neighborhood. 

And sure, maybe those dates didn’t go anywhere real, but who are you to say no to an adventurous dating style while you can? Your reflection on your recent dating patterns is rudely interrupted by a simply hammered Marie, getting far too close in your ear to tell you about the “mysterious” stranger who just walked in the door. 

You turn to see what Marie is even talking about when she drunkenly ushers out a few words of protest and a slurred suggestion about looking more “sultry” to impress the mysterious woman. Rolling your eyes, you swivel around on your barstool to get a good look at said woman. Gods, you thought, did I just get wet? Thoughts you wouldn’t normally have upon first glance, but the way that beautiful stranger catches your gaze from across the room, as if she knew just when the right time to look was, you can’t help the pooling heat between your thighs. To make matters worse, said woman was making her way over to you in a manner that you could only describe as the most confident saunter you’ve ever seen. 

Marie leans over again, red hair brushing against your cheek, “Gotta leave ya to it, kiddo.” Her Northern accent made even thicker by the alcohol in her hand. You nod, your focus on the lady only a yard or two away from you now. You gulp down a few more swigs from your beer, hoping the liquid courage would give you the will to speak over your spiking arousal. 

As soon as she’s in front of you, she smirks and moves into the empty spot next to you, smooth like liquid mercury. Not even taking a seat or speaking to you, she flags down the bartender to order what you hear to be a soft order for two more pints. You keep your eyes trained on her the entire time, hoping that you give off a look of sexy intrigue, rather than the inept staring of a woman stunned. Finally turning back to you after sliding a couple of bills to the bartender and a pint in each hand, this absolute beauty before you shyly grins at you, and gesturing to your now empty (save for froth) pint, says, ever so innocently, “You looked desperate for a refill, love.” 

This display of near-bashfulness has you reaching for the mug offered to you, and after clinking your pint heartily against her own, you ask for her name. Half-way through a sip of her beer, she tries to respond but only manages to dribble down her chin a bit. You giggle at this, and whether or not this was the behavior of a woman several drinks in, or it was simply just her natural state of being, you don’t care. This showed you at least that you could probably hold a conversation with the gal. 

“Fer.” She finally manages to say, you giggle again, telling her your name as well. When she repeats it back to you it almost sounds like a purr and even through the loud din of the pub it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The two of you quickly fall into conversation as well as you can through the aforementioned noise of your settings. Something about Fer intrigues you. The way she has slowly but surely worked her way between your casually spread legs, her surprisingly cold hand on your arm, then your thigh, shoulder, hand. She never seemed to stop touching you. Under normal circumstances, this would infuriate you. As it is often that the heat of others affected you deeply, bringing your skin to an uncomfortable and sticky boil. But Fer’s smooth, chilled hands have you sitting with ease. So, when you notice that your neither of your pints are even halfway finished when she seductively suggests the two of you “Get the hell out of here.” You immediately oblige without a second thought. 

You tell her to wait there while you go to find Marie to tell her where you are going. When you find her and give the completely wasted redhead a once over, you realize that Marie is simply just not getting home by herself. And after dragging your protesting friend through the crowd of people (and catching some curious stares along the way), you decide that this is definitely not the look for either of you. 

Quickly explaining the situation to Fer, you worry she’ll ditch you then and there, if what she was looking for was a quick fuck anyways. To your surprise, Fer perks up at the idea, apparently, an advocate for getting one’s friends home safely. She cheerily waves at Marie before helping you out with keeping the girl steady. 

Walking down the middle of the empty street that lead to Marie’s quaint garden flat, you give Fer directions between the flow of conversation (sometimes contributed to by the drunk-out-her-mind Marie). And after finally dropping Marie into her fluffy twin bed, and making sure she wasn’t going to vomit on herself anytime soon, the two of you leave her to sleep it all off. 

“Quite an adventure, eh?” You laugh, something between a sigh and breath of relief coming from your lips. “I’d sure say so.” You reply, stretching your arms above your head.

“So how about I actually come through on my promise of going somewhere fun?” Fer grins down at you, slinging her black leather-clad arm around your waist, pulling you closer, “You hungry?” She wags her eyebrows cheekily at you. And while you know that means something a lot more suggestive, your eyes widen at the thought of a late night plate of flapjacks at the local diner.

You place your hands on Fer’s jacket lapels as you excitedly explain where the closest place to eat is. She tries to feign a look of eye rolling disbelief at you, but cannot contain the smile that spreads across her face. Leaning in close to your ear she whispered huskily, “You know that’s not what I meant, love.”

You shudder at this, her voice ripping straight to your core. You pull her closer to you by her leather jacket, “Oh I know, love.” You mock, pulling away just a bit to smooth out the collar of her jacket, to then look at her dead in the eyes. “And as much I want to take you up on that offer right here and now, I am simply ravenous.” Fer rolls her eyes one last time before continuing the walk to food. 

“‘Ravenous’ she says!”

***

And “ravenous” you are, as you absolutely devour the plate of flapjacks before you. Fer watched in what appeared to be a mix of intrigue, affection and abject horror as you simply inhaled your 1:15 A.M. meal. As you start to slow down, Fer perches herself smugly against her palm, her cinnamon skin warm against the yellow lights of the establishment, “Satisfied?”

You scoff. If only she knew what it took to make you satisfied. 

Once again, Fer perks up in away that makes you think she can read your mind, but that thought leaves your buzzed mind as quickly as it enters. Instead you choose to say that little quip about satisfaction you thought about out loud (really, you have no filter when you get like this). 

“Oh, is that so, love?” You nod reverently, and she leans closer across the table, almost hesitating before deciding to slide in next you on your side of the booth. She presses against you, her arm slung around your shoulders and her lips on the exposed curve of your ear, “Oh, you have no idea how much I’d like to find out.” The blush that now consumes your face moves farther to the tips of your ears. She chuckles huskily against the space where your neck meets your shoulder, nearly moaning, “I love to see you blush like that, love.”

You grasp the wrist creeping along your thigh, “Washroom. Now.” You command. Fer all but throws herself out of the booth, taking you with her. You’re thankful for the lack of patrons at this ungodly hour as the two of you practically ran to the nearest washroom, a blessed single family bathroom with a lock on the inside. 

As soon as the door is securely closed, Fer dives upon you like a woman starved, her hands roaming all over your skin, reaching up under your speckled sweater to cup your breasts. At the cool contact you nearly melt, the husky moan Fer unleashes upon your neck is no help in keeping you upright either. The faux wood door and Fer’s dark denim clad leg wrapped around your own seems to be the only thing keeping you grounded at the moment, as Fer’s curious hands roam over every inch of your skin available to her. Unexpectedly, she drags her surprisingly sharp teeth against the skin of your neck and you hear the lust crazed woman before you emit a sound like a low growl. It shocks you into stillness, unsure of how to proceed. 

Sure, you’ve been with girls who would, so to speak, “growl” during sex, but you’ve never heard a growl like this come from a human woman. It was so animalistic, seemed so real. Fer stills her hands then, shakily landing them on your exposed waist. The way she looks into your eyes is a look you can’t read. As stunned as you are, you reach up to cup Fer’s cheek, then to stroke the buzz cut hair at the nape of her neck next. You give her a smile that you hope conveys that she needn’t be as apologetic as she looks.

“Let’s head back to my place.” The statement seems to shock Fer as much as her behavior shocked you. She nods slowly, tenderly. The two of you quickly pay for the food and Fer’s coffee. After what seems like an eternity, you enter the threshold of your flat, still holding Fer’s hand. She stops there for a second, and with your gesture for her to come in, she hesitantly takes a step inside. Odd, you think, but don’t question it further. Leaving Fer in the small living room area, you walk over to your kitchenette to put on the kettle for some tea. 

While you busy yourself in the kitchen, Fer just stands there, if a little bit fidgety, looking at the interior of your home. She isn’t even a little bit surprised at how at home she feels, an air of warmth settling around her. A warmth that can’t even be produced by a high quality radiator. She hasn’t felt this warm in ages.

“You can take a seat wherever, ya know,” you turn around to see Fer just standing there, like a fish out of water. She nods softly, making her way over to the earth tone sofa in the middle of the room. It’s then she notices your vast collection of records on the shelf, and the cute red turntable you play them on. She perks up, having something to talk about. 

“What’s your favorite album?” She asks as you walk over to meet her on the couch. Setting the drinks down you think about it as you settle in next to her, close as ever. “Such a difficult question you ask me.” After a second or two of though you walk up to your collection to select your “favorite” from the third shelf down. Putting it on, sweet melodies begin to fill the air of your flat. Fer seems to nod in approval. You let the album play through as the two of you pick up conversation again, though you have to admit that it quickly becomes more hands and lips and tongue than conversation soon enough. 

Before you know it Fer has you laid out beneath her. Her strong legs straddle your hips, keeping you in place as she works her nimble hands underneath your courdories. You gasp as her hands unbutton and unzip your pants, the vibrations from such actions going straight to your clit. If that was enough to make you moan, then the anticipation building up inside of you since the diner washroom couldn’t even prepare you for the way her nimble fingers press right up against your clit or the way they slip down further into your slickness to tease your entrance. 

The sound of your pleasure drives Fer to the brink of madness, grinding her own need against your hip, “I want to hear all of the pretty noises you can make when I fuck you right like this.” That growl is back as she licks a hot stripe up the side of your neck and into your ear, but this time it doesn’t frighten you, instead bringing you closer to ecstasy. Avoiding the unrighteous act of having to stop fucking you with her fingers, Fer quickly yet gracefully sheds her tight pants and frees your chest of your sweater in record time, never having to stop her handiwork down below. Her underwear is a dark lacy maroon, a look that you’d never thought the tomboy would sport. You moan at the feeling of her dampness through her panties on your exposed hip, your own pants pulled down slightly to accommodate her now aggressive pumping of her fingers into you. Fer upholds her promise, fucking you into no tomorrow with her hand buried in your pussy, right on that couch. 

Afterwards, you’re left panting and absolutely covered in sweat and blush, and Fer is no different. She grins smugly down at you before placing a sweet kiss to your forehead and tugging her shirt and your pants all the way off. “Finally satisfied, love?” You moan at the way her small, soft breasts pressed against your own when she leans down. You pull her closer to you and breathe a well earned, on her part, yes into her neck. You almost don’t remember the way that Fer strokes your hair, or how she leads you to your own bedroom and lays you down on the bed so tenderly. What you do remember is the way she looks hesitant to climb in with you, but lets go of that worry when you put your arm around her waist, and nuzzle your face into the skin of her hips as she sits on the bed next to you. You kiss the tender skin there, over and over, until you think you’ve convinced her to stay with you. 

The dreams you have that night, wrapped in this beautiful woman’s arms, are filled with images of black dogs with glowing yellow eyes and the small bats that sit on their backs. The creatures lead you all over this dreamland, and the next morning you awake with their vivid imagery in your mind.


	2. research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which some research takes place.

The library was near empty at this hour, only some straggling students and the graveyard shift custodians remained. Yet here you scoured the shelves of the mythology section looking for information. The last several dates you had with Fer had gotten you thinking. Thinking about the way she was always so hesitant to come into your flat, always waiting for some kind of invitation, how her eyes seemed to literally _ glow _in certain circumstances, her oddly sharp teeth, how she rarely ate anything when you two went out for dinner, not to mention how she always seemed to know what you were thinking. Her behavior reminds you of some characteristics from a certain story you cannot quite put your finger on. One you heard long ago in some literature class in secondary school. 

Gathering some books on Greek and Eastern monsters, you pause at a certain book with a title painted in gold. _ Vampyre _. You trace your fingers over the bold calligraphy. The book looks ancient, thick, and promising. Hauling its mass from the shelf, you plop yourself onto a sturdy oak table nearby. You dive into the blood red book before you, drawn to it in a way you can't explain. 

As you read on, taking notes here and there in your yellowed notepad (one too many coffees spilled in the dining hall), the pieces start to fall into place. Pieces to a puzzle you’re not sure if you want to solve now that you’re into it. Your mouth runs dry when you flip to the next page, a dramatic depiction of a winged woman, her fangs bared at holy soldiers below, several of their heads in her talons already. The image sends a shot of reality through you. 

_Can’t be _ , you think, _ simply can’t be. Monsters just aren’t _ ** _real_ ** _ I know they’re not real. _You sigh heavily, denial settling into your bones. You decide to head on home, thinking that too much coffee and too little sleep has made you gone batty. Paranoid, at that. You put the books away, but decide to check out the encyclopedia on vampires, not really ready to let go of possibility. 

***

Fer sat, alone in her flat. Her head in her hands, fighting off the greatest wave of hunger she has ever felt. Being with you for the past three weeks hasn’t much helped her either, your scent intoxicating to her. That’s also why she couldn’t leave you alone, why she continues to meet you after your classes, to go to museums together, to spend nights at yours. Those first few times walking into your flat had been hell for her. Your scent all around her with literally no escape, on top of the way you always seem to be pressing yourself against her, was a plain and simple hell of resisting desire. 

_But why resist? _ A small voice in her head urges. 

“Because!” She replies, exasperated, “Because I can't just go right up and tell her, ‘Oh, hi darling! I crave your blood!’” Fer slumps against her hands once again.

_She might be into that _. 

“Oh, shut up, will you?” Fer gets up to grab her jacket and keys, “We’re eating out tonight.” 

_Oh! Anywhere nice? _

Fer smirked cruelly, “Well I hope that we both enjoy the food they serve at the park.” 

***

Pigeons really just haven’t been enough. Not for Fer anyways. Tonight though, she managed to treat herself to a hearty goose and a couple of raccoons to sink her teeth into. Recently, the new to nightlife vamp had been changing into a more wolven form to conduct her nightly hunts. A wild dog was much less suspicious than a human girl when said human girl was too busy ravenously devouring a pigeon to notice the night watchman shining his flashlight into the closed off area of the park. After all, Fer was new to this, and she still had some things to figure out. Like whether or not you have to get reinvited to enter your girlfriends flat for the seventh time. Turns out, the whole “needs to be invited inside to enter” thing is a total sham. An absolute total sham.

***

Marie swiveled aggressively around in her lab chair to meet your anxious expression. Even though you’ve been to the lab that Marie shared with three other biology students countless times, even becoming fair acquaintances with the other lab mates, you’re still anxious about this meeting, worrying about your friend’s reaction. Clutching the book you checked out and had been studying religiously to your chest, Marie raises a tired eyebrow at you.

“Vampires?” She sounds absolutely exasperated, maybe you came at a bad time. Yet you stand your ground, nodding resolutely. “Vampires.” You affirm. Marie sighs heavily, removing her heavy wire frame glasses to rub at her eyes, slouching considerably with her elbows on her knees. 

“You really have gone batty, haven’t you?” Marie laughs. 

“Marie - ugh - no!” You say, frustrated, “I’m serious, something is up and this is my only explanation right now.” You pause, waiting for Marie to respond. “Come on, just, let’s go get some food and I’ll tell you about it, please Marie, I’ve got no one else to talk to.” 

Marie rises at this, putting her hands squarely at your shoulders, “Only because you are my friend, I will listen to this vampire nonsense.” You sigh with relief, “Thank you, Marie. I’ll buy your sandwich.” Marie rolls her eyes at you, shedding her white lab coat and donning her thick mustard cardigan, calling out for her labmate to keep an eye on the lab while she’s out. 

The two of you huddle down on the steps of the zoology research building, tuna and turkey sandwiches in respective hands as you give Marie the rundown of what you’ve observed over the past few weeks with Fer. By the end, Marie sits silent, looking in the distance at something with unfocused eyes. You can’t tell if she thinks you’re crazy or if she has some insight to back you up. 

“You know, I’ve been noticing some unusual animal deaths,” She pauses, looking up to meet your gaze with a serious look in her eyes, “Out on my surveys, I’ve seen various wildlife killed by strange means. It was seriously so strange. They were all mangled and it didn’t look like an animal at all... more like human bite marks.” You freeze at this, “But to be frank the death toll hasn’t ceased since the last time I was out there. Rather, it appears to be the work of wild dogs. It’s all in the same area too. Which makes it even stranger, but it makes sense that it’s all contained by that one closed off section for construction right now, nothing to interrupt whatever’s hunting there.”

You still as well, listening to Marie ramble about her field studies pertaining to the area, taking another bite of your sandwich while contemplating your options. The idea of a real life vampire girlfriend doesn’t frighten you as much as it should, you think. And it definitely doesn’t frighten you as much as Marie would think either. In fact, you had been kind of rooting for the option since you seriously started to consider it. _ I mean _ , you think, _ Fer is kind enough, sweet enough. I don’t think she could change that much if I told her I knew. _And the intrigue of becoming so close with a possibly paranormal being was almost too much for your mystery-drawn heart could handle! With remorse, you are abruptly broken out of your thoughts by Marie’s crisp voice.

“I’m ready to go stake it out.” 


	3. fever dream discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you come down with a fever, and affirmations to your suspicions come in the most unexpected circumstance.

As you peel your rain-drenched jumper and jeans off of your body the second you slam the door to your flat shut, you realize for the first time how fucking cold you are. Grumbling all the way to your wardrobe to collect some warm, dry clothes and a fluffy towel to dry off, you regret entirely the little expedition Marie had talked you into. Soon after you had told the fiery girl about your suspicion of your girlfriend, Fer, she was inspired to make a stake-out field trip to the park in the _ middle of the night _to try and catch whatever creature she thinks is behind the strange and recent wildlife killings. And for whatever reason, she decided to bring you along as well. 

_ Great idea, Marie, we sure got that _ ** _animal _ ** _ tonight! _ You think bitterly, as the cold _ really _ starts to settle into your bones. You toss yourself upon your bed, ignoring the ringing of the phone in your living room, cold, and unaware of the world. 

***

You awake to the sound of harsh knocking at your door as you slowly take account of your surroundings. Your wet hair, the unrelenting cold that has still not let go of you. Pulling a crocheted blanket around your shivering frame, you walk to your front door and open it, albeit slowly on account of your sudden weakness. The door opens on a considerably worried Fer. Her beautiful face is skewed with worry and what seems to be fear. Before you know it, the girl is rushing into the threshold of your flat, holding your face in her hands. She pulls away, hissing, as if she’s been burned. 

“You’re burning up.” She pants, equally surprised by your unknowing attack on her cold skin. You pout, teeth chattering, her hands moving to cradle the back of your head. 

“Well, I feel like ice.” 

The worried expression on her face only grows more severe. 

“I was so worried,” she looks you all over, as one looks over a precious object for damages, “You didn’t answer my calls, or Marie’s, she even came by here… she thought you were mad at her.” Fer speaks to you in an almost whisper. You scoff, “Well I could very well be mad at her _ now _, considering this cold she got me.” Fer’s eyebrows furrowed at this. 

You coo at your girlfriend, “Don’t shoot that look at me, pretty face.” You say, maybe a little bit more feverish and loopy than you would like to admit. She asks you where you keep you medicine and you lead her to the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. She rummages there for a few moments, gathering a copious amount of different medicines and a thermometer in her arms. You roll your eyes at her display of frazzled worry. Once she seems satisfied with her selection, she rushes you to your bed, not letting you get up once she’s laid you down. Fer continues her parade around your flat, gathering god knows what. You honor her intentions and stay put in bed, as much as you just want to put that Brando woman’s arms around you. 

Fer was shocked, to say the least, seeing you with all that damp hair and a pale face. You looked like death, and to her, that was never a good sign for anyone that wasn’t her. She had talked to Marie earlier that day, concerned when you didn’t pick up when she called you that night. It was rare and strange thing, when you didn’t even pick up to say that you couldn’t talk. When Marie had told Fer about the little expedition the two of you went out on, the terror that you may have been bitten by whatever made her the way she is (same area, same M.O.) sent her into a near frenzy, trying to hide her rage from Marie over the phone. The fact that she still didn’t know what was wrong with you made her sick to her core, not wishing her newfound curse upon anyone. She had a pot of soup on now, wishing to any god above that all you had was a simple cold. 

After securing at least a cup of tea and an ice pack for you, Fer made her way back to your room, glad to see you resting comfortably among the comforter and blankets. The way that she sits next to you on the bed, oh so tenderly, makes your heart warm, possibly the warmest you’ve felt all day. Before you can greedily gulp down the steaming tea before you, Fer manages to swipe your temperature from you, frowning decidedly at the high temperature you’ve somehow managed to run, despite the horrible cold that grips you. 

The ice pack that she sets on you is a fresh hell. Just as Fer is giving you another once-over, you grab at the lapels of her jacket, pulling her into bed with you. It’s good to see the worried woman laugh, halting your weak attempt at pulling her down to rid herself of the shoes she hadn’t had time to take off. The contented sigh you let out as you wrap your arms around the lanky woman and bury your face into the cool, exposed skin of her neck is not missed by the woman above you. 

You let out a whiny sound of discontent as she whispers a soft question about what happened the night before into your hair, “The rain is a devil.” You can feel her tense muscles relax under your grip, as she begins to languidly pet up and down your sides. 

She places a kiss onto the crown of your head. “At least it was only the rain, right?” The persistent worry that hasn’t left her tone the entire time she’s been here has you lifting your head from your previous spot on her shoulder. You smile at her, whispering back an assured, “Right.” 

Fer nods, the worry lines on her forehead finally smoothing out. The two of you lay there like that for a while, her long fingers toying with your clothes, moving up underneath them to caress your sides. With the now cooling pot of soup left on the counter, long forgotten (just like the worries of the outside world), Fer breathes soft and sweet nothings into your ear, making you blush every so often at her total disregard for chastity within each comment and praise. 

Eventually, you find yourself drifting into a calm (if a little bit feverish) sleep with your head buried into the space between Fer’s neck and shoulder, her hand tangled in your hair, right where each of you belong.

***

Awakening for the second time that morning with the sun in your eyes, you can’t help but notice the considerable warmth surrounding you, or the woman planting soft kisses all over your face, neck, and collarbone. You giggle, half awake, at the tickling sensation. Fer has half a mind to stop right then and there, surprised that you were awake during the secret ritual she often enacted when she was sure you were asleep. 

That was one of Fer’s secret pleasures. And who could blame her? She loved you then, when you were asleep, beautiful even in unconsciousness. She always felt incredibly guilty for never telling you about the little kisses she enjoyed laying on you in the wee hours of the night. But in this late morning light, you are just irresistible to her. She simply couldn’t help herself. Fer stills now, looking you squarely in the eyes like a deer in the headlights.

“Is this alright?” She asks tenderly, as she plants another kiss, slightly open mouthed onto the column of your throat. Your responding hum and slightly breathy moan makes Fer think of how sensitive you must be because of the fever. Or something like that. It sends her mind straight to the gutter, images of you unraveling before her nearly driving her mad. Instead of taking you then and there, like she would have liked to do, she lays a few more soft kisses along your throat before pulling away to get your temperature again. She smiles at the results, a fairly even temperature, by her judgement. 

She threads her hands through your hair, “Feeling better, love?” You nod in response, a truthful answer this time around. Fer leans in close, millimeters from your already open lips. 

“Good,” she breathes, “Because I’d hate to get sick.” 

Ironic, considering that the dead cannot get sick. 

You shiver at how deep her voice goes. Slowly, and ever so sensually, Fer moves your hands above your head, pinning them there as she lays kisses along your sensitive neck. You gasp every time her lips make contact with your skin, moving lower and lower until she can’t properly hold both your wrists and continue on her desired trajectory. She looks up at you, lust set deep in her eyes, her command for you to stay still comes out almost as a growl. 

From there, she uses her strong hands to pull down your leggings, leaving your bottom half bare before her. The distinct lack of warning she gives you before diving her fingers between your folds, not penetrating fully yet, has you yelping out at the coldness of her fingers. Something you don’t think you’ll ever be fully braced for. 

She spreads you before her, practically drooling when she looks over your sex. There’s no hesitation with Fer today, no teasing. You think for a moment it might have something to do with how worried the woman was earlier. But, like a woman starved, Fer dives upon you, licking a fat stripe from your hole to your clit, then continuing to suck on the sensitive bud as all thoughts, potential or realized, are wiped from your mind. Replaced by brazen pleasure, you call out Fer’s name, her resounding chuckle sends vibrations all the way up your spine. 

You ache to touch her, to bury your fingers in her short, buzzed, hair but you know that if you move your hands, Fer will stop her careful methods of unwinding you entirely. It continues like this for what feels like forever, Fer alternating from orally driving you mad to laying soft kisses along the bottom of your stomach and thighs. After some desperate calls on your part, Fer finally gives in, gives in to you what you need. As you cum, shaking and letting out stuttered and choked moans, Fer runs her slim fingers up your stomach. The sensation of her cool hands on your now burning body is as pleasant as ever and as she brings you back down to Earth, you sigh heavily with satisfaction. 

*** 

It’s only later that evening when the two of you open up the first bottle of wine of the night. Wine, among other things being bound to spill before the night's end. The two of you had spent the entire afternoon in the nude, simply enjoying the sight and presence of each other’s bodies, not caring to cover any part of them. It was your idea to open up the wine; and it was Fer’s idea to open up that six pack of beer cooling in the fridge. 

You are absolutely wasted by the fourth glass of wine and half a can of beer in. Flushed from the red wine, you are just about as giggly as a schoolgirl and so, so bare. After getting a little cold, Fer decided to throw on one of your gigantic sweaters, and is currently perched on the edge of your couch. Her long legs folded to her chest, and a wine glass precariously held between her hands. She peers at your relaxed form, sitting on the floor with an arm resting on the seat of the frumpy couch. To her, you look like one of those sapphic paintings of women from Ancient Greece, sprawled out so delicately, yet oh so bold and confident. 

And bold you are. The conversation between you quickly reaches brazenly honest levels, yet still remains pleasant. A calm silence falls between you, one that you casually fill (drunkenly and unknowingly) with your recent suspicions of the girl before you. The whole vampire business, why you were out with Marie the night before. Brushing off the whole shebang as “paranoid sillies” (as you so eloquently put it). But you don’t miss how Fer stiffens up at your mention of the whole “vampire thing”. And you certainly don’t miss that delicate wine glass as it shatters against your hardwood floors. You are suddenly grateful that you don’t have any rugs in this area. In the same moment, Fer apologizes profusely, her tone full of an emotion you can only pin later as terror. You tell Fer to wait there while you go to get something to clean it all up. While you’re at it, you decide to slip on a pair of panties and a t shirt, the night growing colder by the minute. 

When you return with a dustpan, sweeper and plenty of paper towels, the intensely anxious look on Fer’s face concerns you. In your drunken lack of reasoning capabilities, you are confused at what could have the woman so worried. She’s so caught up in her own thoughts that even her protests in you cleaning up the shards is a weak attempt, when Fer is usually a little bit more forceful with those types of things - ever the chivalrous type. In your own distraction with trying to decipher the woman before you, you accidentally slice open a thin gash on the palm of your hand. You try to laugh it off, grabbing a clean and glass-free paper towel to stop the bleeding. When you look up at Fer, she’s not laughing. In fact, she’s as serious as one could be, still as rigid as a board, a now hungry look paints her features. Her once soft and dark brown eyes are glowing - is that yellow? And her lips are pulled back to reveal two elongated and frighteningly sharp fangs. As your heart rate picks up, it’s almost like Fer can tell. She looks into your eyes and her face drops into that of betrayal and shame. The woman who seconds before this moment, looks like she could have eaten you whole, whispers out an apology filled with remorse and jumps up off the couch, practically running back to your room. You can’t move, too shocked by what had just occurred before your very eyes. You try to process it, bit by bit. Vampires, glass shattered, clean up glass, get cut, blood, girlfriend’s glowing eyes and animalistic hunger. That’s where you get lost every single time you run it through your mind; it all happened so quickly. Before you can stop yourself, with only a sliver of fear lingering in you stomach, you arrive at the door of your own bedroom, where you can hear Fer frantically shuffling around to gather her things, no doubt. Or maybe she’s pacing, you cannot tell. After a moment of hesitation, you decide to knock.

“Fer?” You call out; no response. “Fer, please come out. Please -” you say, tentatively, “- I promise I’m not afraid. I … I just wanna talk.” Everything behind that door stills and you’re still too, you realize. You could hear a pin drop. After a few more moments and the fear that Fer has already made her exit through your bedroom window, you open the door. Your relieved to find that Fer hasn’t left quite yet, but when she locks eyes with you - in the middle of stuffing her pockets with her wallet and keys - you can see the fear residing in them. She looks like a frightened fawn, like she could bolt at any second. You’ve never seen her like this, so afraid and so vulnerable. It has you moving towards her, never breaking eye contact. Something, thankfully, keeps her place as you stand in front of her, reaching out to lay a warm hand against her cold cheek. She tenses once more at your touch, as if she’s afraid of what could happen if she lets her guard down again. Instead of pulling away, you just caress smooth circles into the soft skin there, talking to her in a soft whisper, telling her that you’d really like for her to stay - and talk. After a while of this, and you pulling her into an embrace with your wounded hand around her waist, she whispers into your ear, “Is your hand alright?” You laugh a bit into her neck, still noticing her tenseness and refusal to put her hands on you. 

“I’m fine, love. But I’m really worried - and curious - about _ you _ .” You are eternally grateful for how much Fer loves being called that name, and for how it makes her relax in you, finally bringing her hands up to your hips and hair. She holds you now, but it’s so gentle and tender, as if she’s still afraid she’s going to break you, and it’s more like she’s holding _ on _ to you rather than holding you. She weeps then, fully breaking down from the emotions of the night. She notices that your shoulder is getting wet with her tears and moves to pull away, apologizing for it. But you’ll have none of it, simply holding her tighter against you as you whisper words of praise and love into her ear, reassuring her that whatever’s wrong, it won’t bother you and that she has no reason to worry. Once the tall woman has managed to calm herself down enough to talk, subtle tears still rolling down her cheeks (which you take gentle and great haste in wiping away with your thumb), you lead her to sit on the edge of your bed with you.

That’s when you find out - for real. Fer tells you everything. The night in the park, how she was turned, how she thought it was just a wild dog that had gotten at her. She shows you her scar then, and you think yourself silly for never noticing it before now. Sure, it’s faint, but who could really miss a thing like that? She also tells you that’s why she was so worried when you had caught the fever - it was so similar to her own turning. With every detail of her story, you feel like you get to find even more things to learn and to love about your girlfriend. Like her abilities, the way she shapeshifts to hunt (although she cares enough to leave the gory details of how she killed her prey) and (to her, shameful) capacity to read your thoughts Though, the way Fer described it, it was more like she could read your intentions, your desires, the feeling of your emotions. That’s also when you learned how Fer truly saw you, how much she was really bonded to you already. You are an imprint on her mind, apparently: never far from her thoughts, never distant from her mental reach. It was intriguing, to say the very least.

And for the second time that day, with every detail explained, a hand bandaged, a jacket thrown over the living room chair, and a pile of broken glass so graciously swept away by your _ vampire _ _ girlfriend _, the two of you are passed out in your bed. A warm figure pressed against a cold one; and a still heart miraculously beating again in phantom time to your very own. 


End file.
